


Sweetheart

by stareyednight



Series: Brooklyn Girls [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, F/F, Female Bucky Barnes, Female Steve Rogers, First Kiss, Genderswap, Getting Together, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Rebecca 'Becky' Barnes, Stephanie Rogers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 09:12:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7634512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stareyednight/pseuds/stareyednight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Steve and Bucky were women: some things change, but some stay the same. Pre-war, Brooklyn.</p><p>  <i>Becky stared at Steph. Steph Rogers stood all of five feet, a spun-glass asthmatic who thought she was ten feet tall and bulletproof and even Becky, who secretly loved her more than she’d ever thought possible to love another person, knew that the army would take one look at her medical history and turn her right back around. “Steph, you can’t think…”</i></p><p> <i>That jaw was set again, stubborn and tilted up. “That they need women to replace the men, and maybe I don’t need to be able to run ten miles to do some good?"</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweetheart

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for Jill, the lurker who lurks and the Cap to my Bucky.
> 
> I started thinking about how the story would change if Steve and Bucky were girls and this grew from it. Hoping to write more in this universe, but will require more research...
> 
> Not beta-ed, so please do point out any glaring errors.

When Becky had come home to their apartment with the enlistment papers and wearing her new WAC uniform, Steph nearly threw a pot lid. Her sharp jaw clenched and got even sharper, which Becky hadn’t thought was possible, and she turned away stiffly to put the lid back onto the pot on the stove.

Becky set her paperwork and the small wrapped bundle on the kitchen table. “I picked up some beef on the way home, courtesy of my new pay-cheque.”

“What did you do?” Steph asked her. Everything from the wave of hair dropping over her forehead to her hands on the wooden spoon trembled and Becky couldn’t help worrying about an asthma attack as she watched Steph work herself up.

“I enlisted, you idiot. Was the uniform not enough of a giveaway?”

“I thought we were going together!”

Becky stared at Steph. Steph Rogers stood all of five feet, a spun-glass asthmatic who thought she was ten feet tall and bulletproof and even Becky, who secretly loved her more than she’d ever thought possible to love another person, knew that the army would take one look at her medical history and turn her right back around. “Steph, you can’t think…”

That jaw was set again, stubborn and tilted up. “That they need women to replace the men, and maybe I don’t need to be able to run ten miles to do some good?”

Becky frowned, crossing over to meet Steph at the stove. “They have regulations for a reason. What happens if they actually took you? You could get sick, really sick, somewhere and then what?” Becky clenched her fists, feeling her nails bite into her hands at the thought of Steph sick, again, but this time far from home (and far from Becky). “You remember January, right?”

Steph rolled her eyes and took the package off the table, unwrapping the brown paper with jerky movements. “It wasn’t that bad. Not like-.“

“Steph, I swear if you say not as bad as ‘39, I’m going to scream. Mary Mother of God, I hope nothing is ever as bad as ‘39.” Becky ran her hand over her hair and tried not to think about how very, very bad the winter of ’39 had been. She’d never been so terrified as when the flu had turned into pneumonia and all the doctors did was shake their heads and offer to get Father Collins to come around. This year had brought only one bout of the flu and a bad cold, but it still hurt Becky to watch Steph struggle to breathe between coughs and the way her skin nearly went translucent as she shivered in bed. Becky had slept in the same bed as Steph for weeks both for extra warmth and to make sure she didn’t stop breathing in the night.

Steph’s shoulders slumped, the fight running out of her. She knew how hard it was on Becky to watch her be sick and not have any way of stopping it. Becky did her best, worked in the office of one of the shipping warehouses and sometimes picked up extra shifts during the winter when the automat had girls go down sick, but it wasn’t easy. Medicine and doctors weren’t cheap.

“I know, but I just feel so damned useless. At least you get to do something, help people. I’m stuck here drawing ads trying to get people to buy soap. It’s not fair, Beck.” The last was said into the curtain of her hair as she sliced up the meat, but Becky heard it anyway.

Becky stepped up behind her, gently resting her hands on Steph’s elbows and forcing her to stop cutting. Steph set the knife down and turned in Becky’s grip, close enough that Becky could see the freckle on one cheekbone and smell her soap. “Hey, look at it this way. They’re not really sending WACs overseas, maybe I’ll ask to get stationed somewhere warm, like California or something. Then I can send you a ticket and you can come be warm, too.”

Steph looked up at her, eyes disbelieving. “You’d do that?”

Becky gave Steph her most convincing smile. “Got to keep my best girl healthy,” she said, heart fluttering as Steph smiled up at her.

Steph leaned in the rest of the way and wrapped her arms around Becky, squeezing tightly as Becky rested her cheek on Steph’s hair. “Thanks. But,” she continued as she pulled out of the hug and turned back to making dinner, “what’s your ma going to say when she hears?”

Becky laughed, finally toeing off her pumps and sitting on the arm of the couch. “It will probably be ‘Rebecca Buchanan Barnes, what in heaven’s name were you thinking? Don’t you know it’s not right to be doing men’s work? You’ll never find a husband this way, blah blah blah’.”

“She’ll probably feel better about it when you start sending money home,” Steph tossed over her shoulder as she added the meat to the soup.

“Steph, I’m not sending her the money, I’m sending it to you.” It burst out of her unexpectedly, but as soon as she said it Becky knew it was true, that it had always been the plan in the back of her mind. Steph set the ladle down with a clang and stalked over to Becky, still perched on the arm of the couch.

“What are you doing, Becky? I can manage just fine, I don’t need you sending me money like some sort of – sort of damsel who needs taking care of!” 

“Why not?” Becky shot back. “Did you ever think of that? Maybe you deserve someone to take care of you because they-.” She snapped shut her traitorous mouth and pressed her lips together, upset she’d let her emotions run away with her and spill her deepest secret.

Steph went very still, her blue eyes wide in her pale face. “Because they what, Beck?” She took a step closer and because Becky was sitting they were of a height.

Becky could taste the waxy remnants of her lipstick as she looked away over Steph’s shoulder. She needed to come back with a clever reply, defuse the situation, but all she could think of was the serious answer to that question – because they love you, because they think you’re wonderful, because they need you here to come home to.

Steph moved again, closer, and when Becky looked back at her Steph reached out so very gently and pushed one of Becky’s stray curls back. Unconsciously, Becky’s face turned into Steph’s hand, her cheek and nose brushing against Steph’s cool palm and Steph stayed there for a moment, cradling Becky’s cheek. Becky closed her eyes for a just a second, eyelashes brushing along Steph’s palm, as she soaked in the touch. She was so tired from work and scared from enlisting and just for this tiny moment she let herself feel. Steph’s thumb gently traced over her cheekbone and Becky opened her eyes ready to shake the moment off and return to real life.

Steph was looking at her with those impossibly blue eyes and there was something soft and wanting in them. Her hand still on Becky’s cheek she closed the distance between them and pressed her soft lips to Becky’s.

Becky’s hands came up automatically to rest on Steph’s waist before her mind even started processing what was happening. Steph’s lips moved against hers and Becky automatically followed, parting her lips to match and deepening the kiss. Steph was kissing her, Steph had kissed her first and Becky thought her heart might burst with happiness.

Finally they separated but neither went very far, Becky brushing her nose against Steph’s and drawing a smile out of her as they rested their foreheads together.

“I think I love you, Beck. I think I've been in love with you for a long time.” Steph's eyes were closed as she said it, like she still wasn't sure of the reaction she’d get. Becky couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across her face.

“Me too,” she confessed softly and Steph’s eyes snapped open, pulling back enough to look at Becky properly.

“Really?” she asked, eyes lighting up and smile blooming. Becky just nodded, too happy to speak, and reeled Steph back in for another kiss. This time Steph wound her arms around Becky’s neck as she kissed her back, firm and sweet and hardly able to contain her smile.

“I'm going to change and hang this up before we eat,” Becky said, reluctantly pulling away and standing up as Steph gave her a pout, which made Becky laugh before she leaned down to kiss it away.

Becky made quick work out of changing, hanging her new uniform up on the door to the tiny closet they shared. Removing the pins from her hair and setting them in the dish on the dresser, she caught a look at herself in the spotted mirror on the wall. Her lipstick was smudged and she blushed at her own reflection as she wiped the rest off with a washcloth. She slid into a skirt and was still buttoning her blouse when she walked back into the kitchen.

Steph looked over her shoulder when she heard Becky and her eyes lingered on Becky’s fingers closing the blouse before she flushed and turned back to the stove. “The kettle’s boiled and the teapot is on the table,” she said to the soup pot.

Becky grinned and came up behind her, pressing her lips to the side of Steph’s neck and revelling in the opportunity to do so. “Thanks, doll.”

Steph gave a little shiver and tilted her head so that Becky could kiss up under her ear as she absently stirred the soup. “If you keep doing that we’re never going to eat.”

“It’s soup, it’s not going to hurt for a little extra cooking time,” Becky murmured into her hair, fingers trailing up Steph’s side.

Steph turned around and gently poked her fingers into Becky’s shoulder, playfully pushing her away. “Now see here, Miss Barnes, I’ve made us a nice dinner and you’re not going to distract me with your wicked ways.” She waved the ladle in an impression of Becky’s ma when she got worked up about something and Becky stepped back, grinning. “Maybe after dinner,” she added impishly and Becky laughed as she fetched the bowls.

 

After dinner, Becky washed up and Steph turned on the radio as she sat on the couch with her sketchbook. Becky hummed along to Glenn Miller as she put the cups away and when she was finished she leaned over the back of the couch.

Steph had been drawing Becky as long as they'd known each other and Becky was used to seeing scribbles of herself on everything from butcher’s paper to napkins to newspaper. But the sketch emerging from under Steph’s pencil now was miles away from what Becky usually saw and as soon as she saw it she knew why she hadn't seen it's like before.

There was love in every stroke, in the soft curve of her neck to the smirk of her lips and it screamed Steph’s feelings almost louder than the kiss earlier. Even though Steph hadn't looked up once every detail was perfect and Becky understood why she’d been seeing less and less of the inside of Steph’s sketchbooks

“You’re making me look like a movie star. Anyone else sees that they’re going to wonder where your glasses are.”

“You do look like a movie star. Katharine Hepburn’s got nothing on you.” Steph finally looked up at her and Becky smiled down, stealing a quick upside down kiss before straightening up and coming around the couch.

She held her hand out to Steph. “Come dance with me, I love this song.”

“Aww, Beck, you know I’m a terrible dancer.” Even as she protested, though, Steph was putting her sketchbook aside and standing up.

“You’re not terrible,” Becky said. “Maybe you just haven’t found the right partner.” Steph took her hand and let Becky draw her in and hold her close with a hand on her back.

“You taught me,” Steph returned without heat. As they swayed together, Steph exhaled and rested her cheek on Becky’s chest and Becky continued humming along. “But it never felt like this.”

Becky stroked her fingers over the back of Steph’s hand in hers. “No, it didn’t.” She thought back to the two of them tripping along to the radio, Becky’s insistence that Steph would pick it up and therefore enjoy coming dancing more. She also remembered the low thrill in her stomach when she lead, awkward and caught between wanting to hold her and being too afraid to touch her at all.

The song finished and segued into a faster number. Becky made to spin Steph out for a faster dance but Steph pulled her hand free. “No, no way. Then you’ll definitely end up with sore feet.” She sat back on the couch and Becky dropped down beside her.

Normally they’d spend the evening like this, Steph sketching or working on a commission and Becky listening to the music or a radio show or reading a novel beside her. This time she curled up next to Steph and rested her head on Steph’s shoulder. Steph tilted her head, leaning into Becky for a moment, and kept drawing. The scratch of the pencil on paper was a familiar one and after the emotional upheaval of enlisting, which now felt so long ago, and the dizzying high of discovering Steph’s feelings, Becky felt herself relaxing and let herself drift.

 

Becky came awake to the feeling of Steph stroking her thumb over her knee. She opened her eyes to see the sketchbook away and Steph reading, her hand resting on Becky’s skirt draped leg and thumb absently passing over her knee, which had slumped closer to Steph during Becky’s sleep.

“Hey there, Sleeping Beauty.” Steph set her book aside and laughed when, instead of sitting up, Becky cuddled in closer and rubbed her head against Steph’s shoulder and chest. “You always were worse’n a cat.” Becky smiled and rubbed her nose along Steph's collarbone and Steph gave in, wrapping both arms around the other woman. They stayed like that for a moment until Steph wriggled a little. “Sorry, Beck, my leg’s going numb.”

Becky shifted off Steph's hip and let her stand up. She shook out her leg and gave the little wince that meant more than just her leg was bothering her. Her joints gave her trouble and her back wasn't real strong and Becky felt a little guilty about keeping her in an uncomfortable position for so long.

Steph must have noticed the look on Becky’s face when she turned back around. “Don't even think about it, I'm fine. Really.” Her look turned coy. “But, I might feel better lying down, with something warm in bed with me.”

Delightedly shocked, Becky bounced up to her feet. “Stephanie Rogers, where have you been hiding that mouth? Talking like that!”

Steph blushed all the way to her hairline but kept the coy look. “I guess you bring it out in me.”

Becky reached out and drew Steph into her arms. Steph pushed her burning face into Becky’s chest, but Becky tipped her chin up to look at her. “You bring it out in me, too, more than anyone ever has. Never felt this way about anyone before.”

“What about Teddy Miller, you went out with him for a bit.” Steph bit on her lower lip and Becky resisted the urge to kiss it.

“Teddy was nice, but he never gave me this fire inside, the one I get everytime I so much as look at you. I've been stuck on you for a long time, sweetheart. I just never thought I'd get to have you.”

Steph hugged her fiercely. “You got me now, Beck. Always. Til the end of the line, remember?”

Becky nodded, holding Steph tight to her. “Yeah,” she said, thickly as emotions swamped her. “Til the end of the line.”

Steph drew back and kissed the end of Becky's chin, making her laugh. “Let's go to bed, Beck. You're exhausted and I really want you to hold me without having to be too sick to enjoy it.”

“You taking care of me now?” Becky asked as Steph towed her along by the hand into their shared room.

“Of course.” She turned to her bed and started on the buttons of her dress. “I don't get to near enough to pay you back. Besides, isn't that was a girl does for her sweetheart?”

Becky paused in her undressing and looked over at Steph, already out of her dress and standing in her underthings. “Yeah,” she said, heart full. “I guess it is.” Steph blushed to see her staring and flapped a hand at her as she pulled her nightgown on. Becky turned back and finished her own undressing in record time, slipping into Steph’s bed beside her.

She curled around Steph’s back, pressing her face into the place where neck and shoulder met. Steph took her hand and brought it around to hold it to herself tightly. She kissed their joined hands and Becky kissed her neck.

“In the morning were going out, though, so I can buy my best girl breakfast. What kind of soldier would I be if if didn't treat her like she deserves?”

Steph squeezed the hand in hers and brought them both to rest between her breasts. She sighed deeply, contentedly, and turned her head for a kiss that was so sweet and soft it stole Becky's breath away. She settled back into the pillow with another sigh and Becky dropped another kiss in her hair, just taking in the scent of her one more time.

“Night, Becks.”

“Night, sweetheart.”


End file.
